


to build a dream on

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:09:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a Tumblr prompt: Angie is taking care of one of Peggy's wounds and end up kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to build a dream on

**Author's Note:**

> First Agent Carter fic, crossing my fingers that it doesn't suck. <3

 

“Honestly, Peg, you really have to watch where you’re walking when it’s this dark out.”

 

Peggy watches with fascination as Angie delicately wipes the excess blood around the wound, the gash seemingly under control now. She is so careful, even as she cleans the worst of it, Peggy hardly feels a sting, but she feels everything else. The ghostly caress as her leg is urged atop the other woman’s lap, the firm, tactile press along the cut and Angie’s unbroken concentration. It makes Peggy breathe a little deeper, a little bit more carefully, so she leans deeper into the pillows stacked up behind her, to distract herself from the evident nearness and the faint smell of Angie’s day old perfume, now mingled along with the smell of coffee grains and such. Yes, Peggy can definitely feel of that.

 

“Pull this thing up for me, will ya?” Angie says, tugging at Peggy’s skirt.

 

Peggy blinks. How long has she been talking?

 

“English. _Skirt_.”

 

“Right. Sorry.” _Come on, Carter, keep it together; she’s just cleaning a scraped knee for god’s sake._

She pulls the skirt up about an inch or so above the knee and Angie takes this opportunity to sit a little closer. It doesn’t escape Peggy that if she didn’t have a leg folded under she’d be stride Angie, in fact, she is so keenly aware—super secret spy senses and the lot—that she carefully releases a long, heavy breath she can no longer keep casual.

 

Angie looks up, worried. “Did that hurt?”

 

“No,” She assures her, smiles keenly for good measure.

 

“Good,” Angie nods, returns to her task, reaching for a Band-Aid from the small first aid kit Peggy keeps in the bathroom. “I was going to tell you to suck it up anyway.”

 

Peggy laughs a little, as if a beautiful woman sitting partially between her legs were any laughing matter. “You’re good at that. Tended to many scraped knees, Angie?”

 

“Oh, yeah.  Big family, kids running around all over the place,” Angie pauses as she carefully covers the cut with the bandage, running her index finger along the edges to make sure it stays in place, “Kissed many booboos in my day. Want me to kiss yours?” She asks with a tiny crooked smirk. Her hand is still curved over Peggy’s leg, it’s both cool and warm, and Peggy can’t speak.

 

Her lips barely twitch to reply before Angie asks, “What happened to you, English?” There’s real worry there, actual concern.

 

Peggy laughs as if she wasn’t just running for her life two hours prior to running into Angie while trying to discreetly sneak into her room. “I told you, I slipped in a puddle, fell right over. You should know, I’m terribly clumsy, downright inept sometimes.”

 

“Hmm,” Angie nods, not buying a single word. Her hand moves slightly higher up Peggy’s leg, stare never breaking as her fingers trace the sensitive dip in the back of her knee.

 

Peggy’s breath hitches quietly, her lips part as her Angie trails her fingers higher still. She knew this flirtation between them was going to get them into trouble. Peggy is dangerous, but Angie was trouble the second she met her.

 

Those cool and warm fingers slip underneath Peggy’s skirt, gently touching her outer thigh. “That’s a massive shiner you’ve got there, English.”

 

“What?”

 

“Here,” Angie gingerly taps Peggy’s thigh and when she glances down to where she’s looking, it takes her a moment to get her mind back on track. It’s just a little difficult to think when Angie’s touching her so intimately. “What happened here?” She further inquires, tracing the green and yellowish bruise and driving Peggy further into the arms of insanity with every graze of her digits.

 

“I—I told you, I’m clumsy, walked right into an open desk drawer at work.”

 

“The phone company.”

 

“Right, at the phone company.”

 

“Right,” Angie echoes, “The phone company.”

 

There’s a strange silence between them. Angie won’t look up and Peggy feels like she’s lying, really lying, and she feels like she wants to explain. It’s a dangerous thing, this thing she’s feeling. She feels the ardent need to confess everything to this woman and she shouldn’t, she knows better, still Peggy can feel it bubbling up in the pit of her stomach. She’s about to make up some funny, elaborate comment about her ineptitude, when Angie lunges forward and kisses her.

 

And Peggy really can’t breathe. Her eyes are closed; Angie’s lips are pressed against her own. Up close, she can really smell that perfume she’s only caught whiffs of in the past, and she’s dizzy with it. Angie is this smoky unprecedented substance swimming through her head, and when she’s finally brave enough to breathe again, she’s kissing Angie back. It’s slow, and gentle, definitely not shy. Peggy sighs with the first taste of the other woman’s tongue. And she wants to cry when Angie slowly pulls away, her hand still cradling Peggy’s cheek.

 

And oh, the look she gives Peggy, this worried, saddened look she’s seen too many times before. It makes Peggy feel like the scum of the earth, she wants to tell Angie to run, far away, she’s no good, this is a bad idea, she’s not that type of girl. Every cliché she can muster. Except, Angie breaks into the warmest, sincerest smile and says, “Be careful out there English. Okay?”

 

Peggy searches, searches deep within those wide, expressive eyes for any glimpse of dishonesty, or distrust. There is none. There’s only understanding, she will take this explanation for now.

 

“I will,” Peggy says, and means it, though she knows that she’s all the more vulnerable now that she’s got someone looking at her that way. “I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

 

Angie kisses her.

 

Oh, Peggy Carter is certainly in trouble now.


End file.
